The sign does not display when the next bus will come. You have been here for some time now, waiting on the bus. It is raining, very gently. The warm air, thick with humidity and a soft drumming rain on your raincoat makes it difficult to focus. You look up from the article you were reading on your phone and scan the streets. You see cars, you see a bus going the other way, you see people trudging along. No bus. You see a billboard, not too far, but not too close either.
A comfortable billboard distance.
It glistens in the rain, the greyish pink ham seems to bead liquid on it. The bun somehow looks soggy even though it is just a picture. The cheese is a perfect square with precise 90 degree angle corners, even though it's also melted. It is wearing a crown. A crown made of limpid cheddar yellow gold, with pickles for jewels and a mind-bending pattern of intricate, lettuce-shaped filigree. Your stomach turns, and after a long moment of uncertainty, you think it may be hunger. The sandwich seems to be the same temperature as the air, warm and moist.
The bus hasn't come.
You rip your eyes away from the billboard, blinking for the first time in...how long were you staring at the sign.
You're late for work now.
A bus should have come. In fact, several buses should have come.
You look at the next arriving sign, but it is blank, dead. Behind it you catch sight of a billboard, closer, too close. The sandwich looms, it's limpid crown seeming to ooze out of the image. You think this is a video screen billboard. You desperately hope it is. The sandwich droops as you stare, unblinking, unmoving. Is there a face in the ham?
The police are here. They are asking if you're ok. A paramedic is trying to get your attention. They say you've been here for days, screaming. You laugh and explain that you're just waiting for the bus. One of them offers you something to eat. One of them has offered you a Yumbo. You smile, and take it. It'll be a nice snack while you wait for the bus.
Are you feeling alright?.